Better Tuck In That Tail, Little Duck
by DownInTheDirt
Summary: Katniss had always thought the world of her sister, so how would she ever cope without her? A one-shot highlighting some tender moments between Katniss and Prim. K . Reviews are most welcome! I don't own these characters. Suzanne Collins does.


**Author's Note:- Why does it always take so long for me to update things? Well here I am again, guys! And with another new story! This one will be a one-shot so you won't have to wait for updates. I decided to spread my wings and write different fan fictions. However, I have not given up on Harry Potter, and I never will! I'm working on updates for other stories too, but I came up with this idea and wanted to put it into words before I forget it! I hope you enjoy it!**

I had just turned four when Prim was born.

I remember the day as clearly as if it were yesterday...I heard all of this screaming, coming from my mother in the next room. I wasn't afraid though. I knew why she was doing it – my baby brother or sister was coming today.

My parents had spent countless months preparing me for the baby. At first I guess I didn't really understand. I was three when my mother became aware of her pregnancy, and I was used to being the only child. I wasn't like one of those capitol children who got whatever they wanted when they screamed or cried; I was quite the opposite. I was content to follow my father around like his shadow when he wasn't working at the mines. Other than to work, I went everywhere with him.

Then my father told me that when the baby came, I would have to share him, and I didn't know how to feel about it. I supposed a sibling wouldn't be too bad. I saw babies pretty regularly in District Twelve. When out at the market with my mother she would always be cooing at one and telling the mother how beautiful he or she was. I wasn't really a baby person, before Prim was born. They didn't interest me. To me they were like everyone else – trying to survive on the little we had; Just a miniature version of all of the starving citizens in District Twelve.

It was hours before my mother stopped screaming, and my father appeared from behind the bedroom door. He looked exhausted, but elated.

"Hey, sweetheart." He beamed, kneeling beside me and placing a soft, pleasant kiss to my forehead. "Do you want to see your baby sister?" A sister...wow. To be honest, I hadn't really cared whether the baby was a boy or girl, but now I look back on it, I would have preferred a sister to a brother.

My father took me into the bedroom the four of us now shared and there mother was, sitting up in bed, looking pale and sweaty...but she was smiling, smiling at a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. Before I could register what was happening, my father lifted me by my waist and placed me onto the bed, next to my mother. Now I could see her clearly. Prim. My little Prim, asleep at the moment, but oh, she was beautiful. A thin wisp of blonde hair on her otherwise bald little head, pale skin, rosy red cheeks and lovely long eyelashes. I reached out to touch her, then withdrew, worried that I would break her, but my mother just laughed.

"You can touch her, Katniss. She's not made of china." I had never even seen china before, it was too expensive, but I had heard mother say it was easily broken if not handled carefully. I reached a finger out again, and placed it in the palm of Prim's tiny, exposed hand. Her tiny fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed, and an overwhelming surge of love rushed through me. I had to keep her safe, and I was going to, for the rest of my life. My sister; Primrose Everdeen.

Prim is six months old when she is moved out of our parents bed and into mine.

Our parents couldn't afford a crib, so Prim was to share my bed. I remember being so excited when they told me. For the past six months I had doted on my little sister. I was the one who had taught her to sit unaided, I was the one who had taught her to roll over, and I was the one who held her when mother was occupied with other things.

I remember mother tucking Prim in beside me at bedtime. She kissed us both goodnight and left, and we were alone. Prim was content to lay awake and gurgle to herself. I was content to watch her. I smiled and took her little hand, stroking it with my thumb, and I started to sing.

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow. _

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, _

_And when they again open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm, _

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm. _

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true,_

_Here is the place where I love you._

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away, _

_A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray._

_Forget your woes and let your troubles lay,_

_And when again it's morning, they'll wash away._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm, _

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm. _

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true,_

_Here is the place where I love you."_

By the end of the song, Prim was fast asleep and still clinging onto my finger. I lay my bed down beside her and pulled her closer to me. The sound of her soft, gentle breathing slowly lulled me into a peaceful sleep.

Prim is four and a half when she enters school for the first time.

I am allowed to escort her to the school gates myself, seeing as my father had to work and my mother had to see to a little boy who wasn't feeling well. And considering I was eight, and attended the same school, I was delighted to have Prim finally join me.

Prim looked very pretty that day. Her long blonde hair tied into two braids down her back, each tied off with a pretty blue ribbon that our father had given her for her fourth birthday. She wore a baby blue dress, the exact same shade of the ribbon.

Prim didn't seem as excited about going to school as I was about her joining me. I didn't like going without her, and when I came home she would run into my arms like we hadn't seen eachother in years. But now things were different. I would see her before class, and at lunchtime, and after classes too. We would be in the same building, close to one another.

I knelt before Prim, stroking a tear from her delicate pale face.

"What is it, little duck?" I whispered, taking note of her fear and wanting to do anything I could to ease her worries.

"I don't want to go to school, Katniss." Prim sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I don't know anybody, and what if I'm not very good at anything? They'll laugh at me."

"You know me, don't you?" I smiled one of my rare smiles, kissing her forehead the way our father kissed us. "And you're good at lots of things, everyone will love you." It was true. Prim was naturally loveable, unlike me. I wasn't good at making friends, and despite being at this school for four years, I still spent lunchtimes alone. But that wouldn't be the case anymore, not now I have Prim. "Now, give me a smile, little duck."

Prim is eight when our father dies.

It was the worst day of my life. The day when I had lost not just one parent, but two. It was the day that my mother had completely shut herself off from the rest of the world. I was the one who had to explain to Prim why our father hadn't come home from work that day.

"There was an explosion at the mines..." I told her, trailing off. To my surprise, Prim was the one who spoke next.

"And he's dead. I know, Katniss." She let out a soft sigh. Prim surprised me every day with her wisdom. Though in some respects she was still my little, timid baby sister, in others she was as mature as a forty year old woman. She wasn't stupid. "Mother won't talk to me. I tried shaking her but she won't say anything. She needs to find food for supper. We need to eat, Katniss."

"Shhh." I soothed her, pulling her into my arms and stroking her soft, blonde hair. Hugging Prim was like hugging a bag of bones, and it scared me. Now father was gone, the responsibility of getting food into our bellies was now on our mother's shoulders, but it didn't look like she was going to be any help. If we wouldn't get her to talk, how were we going to get her to get up and find us some food?

Father could hunt. He was the one who taught me how to shoot. Mother didn't know how, and Prim was far too young. So all that was left was me. I couldn't shoot nearly as well as my father, but with practice I would get better, and it wasn't like we had any other alternative.

"I'm scared, Katniss." Prim whispered into my chest. "Who's going to look after us now?" I lifted Prim's chin gently, so we were looking eachother in the eyes.

"I will, little duck. I'll look after us all now."

Prim is twelve on Reaping Day.

I see her in her blouse and skirt and realise just how much time had passed. I still remembered the day Prim was born. I still remembered her as that tiny, beautiful baby. And now here she was, twelve years on. Taller, wiser, but still beautiful. She didn't look like me or our father. She looked like our mother, who was once very beautiful, apparently.

"Look at you." I smiled, kneeling down in front of her like I had the first day of school. Prim was still a lot shorter than me. "You look beautiful." I kissed her forehead, before tucking the back of her blouse into her skirt. "But you'd better tuck in that tail, little duck."

I held Prim's hand as we walked to the Justice Building, where the reaping would be held. I only let go when she was to join the group of other, terrified twelve year old girls. I wasn't worried about her. As selfish as it sounded, I was more worried for myself than her. She had her name in once. Mine was in twenty.

The reaping seemed to take an eternity. Effie Trinket kept going on and on about what an honour this was, and how lucky we were. When she was finally done with her speech, she spoke, with an enthusiastic bright smile. "Ladies first!"

I wished and wished and wished as hard as I could in my head. _Please, not me. Not me. Not me._

And it wasn't me.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

My heart seemed to momentarily stop, and then start up again with a jolt so violent that I felt nauseous. No...this couldn't be. Not Prim. Not my little duck.

I watched her leave the crowd. She was paler than usual, and who could blame her. I began to make my way through the crowd, and people made a path for me. "Prim!"

Prim looked round with a look of terror on her face, just before I pulled her into a tight hug, protecting her from the world. "I volunteer!" I cried, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Prim is thirteen when she is taken from me.

I am a mess. I hurt so much inside that I want to sob and throw up all at once. Returning home without her didn't make things any easier. I was there. I was a few metres away from her, and I watched her die. I didn't do anything to save her.

The last thing I saw before the bombs went off was her. What had she been doing there, anyway? She was far too young, and since when had she become so persistent? Adventures were an ordeal for her, and there she was, risking her own life to help others. She had grown up so much in the year before her death, and I hadn't even noticed. I wasn't even there for her.

Peeta tried to console me, but nothing he did could bring her back, could it? Nothing could bring her back. Not now, not ever. This wasn't fair. Of all the people to leave me forever, why Prim? Why Prim, the very person that I had volunteered for at the reaping so her life could be spared.

I had done everything for her. Everything. And it hadn't mattered. None of it had mattered.

It was only when I had finally stopped crying that I could look at pictures of her. We didn't have many, but we had enough. One was enough for me. I began to open up to Peeta. I cried with him. I hadn't realised it before, but he cared about her too.

It was Peeta who took me to her resting place for the first time. I was so terrified that I would fall to pieces. The lump had started to form in my throat before we had even got there. When we did, I began to shake so violently that Peeta had to hold me steady. I knelt down beside the earth where she was buried. My first impulse was to get her out of there. She couldn't stand the dark. Not without me. But no. I took the flowers that Peeta and I had brought for her, and I laid them in rows on top of the mound of mud and dirt. Tucking her into bed for the very last time.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck." I whispered, before blowing her a kiss goodbye.

**Author's Note:- Well here you are. I'm actually happy with it, and I don't always feel like that. I actually felt quite emotional as I was writing it. Please review! They make me so happy! I hope you enjoyed it! x**


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